Rebirth
by carocali
Summary: S3 - While looking for a way out of the deal, Sam is attacked by a strange yellow mist from an ancient artifact. Now Dean and Bobby have to deal with consequences beyond their wildest imaginations or risk losing Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Happy New Year to all of you! I hope the holidays treated you well!

While I had not really intended to do fic anymore, this just sort of happened. I can honestly say I've never written anything like this before. I guess I should call it _limp!Sam_, but, maybe that's not the appropriate term. It certainly falls in _line_ with that category… you'll have to see. :D This is the teaser chapter. Sorry…

_And_, I've decided I'm on crack, and that's what I thought this fic was going to be. Strangely enough, the more I researched it, the more it actually became legit. All the mythology is true (at least, as far as a 'myth' can be 'true').

I should fess up that this is actually based on a whacked-out dream (thus the crack part – please don't send me your card if you're a psychiatrist! I already know I'm nuts!). After talking with Geminigrl11 about it, she convinced me to write it. Then I chatted with TraSan and she helped me rework some of the ideas.

It is complete I just haven't finished rehashing all the wonderful beta work by Gem yet, who is simply amazing. I also would not have completed this insanity without the constant harassment and encouragement of TraSan. I am so incredibly lucky to have such wonderful people to help me. Any additional errors are purely mine.

Sadly, the boys and the Impala are not. Not making money (egads, who'd pay for this!)

It's been a while since I've posted, so I'm a little nervous about this. I appreciate all reviews, drive-bys and PMs.

On with the crack!

:D

Caroline

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

A quick turn around the corner and there it was, a beautifully carved ancient looking chest, staring Sam in the face.

"Huh. Didn't see that before." Sam placed his 9mm in the back of his jeans and regarded the insta-chest cautiously from afar.

The rest of the room held mostly Greek treasures and trinkets – this hidden museum of timeworn history. A contact of Bobby's had told him about the storeroom, thinking there might be something here to help Dean out of the deal; something about crossing cultures to confuse the demons. At least, that's what Bobby said. It was worth a shot, in any case. They were running low on time, so they followed up on every lead that didn't involve Sam dropping dead on the spot. This one seemed like a no-brainer.

The shelves were caked with dust and the last of the sunlight twinkled through the curtained windows, illuminating the particles that flitted in the air. Sam heard Dean's footsteps above as he checked the upper loft, hoping that the Holy Grail was theirs to find and that their luck would finally take a turn for the better.

Sam continued his perusal of the room, hungrily taking in the artifacts, awed at the stories that must be behind them. Not to mention their value. Clearly, someone had felt the need to keep them out of the public domain, which deemed them a _different_ kind of priceless. The statutes and paintings were exquisite and certainly belonged in a real museum, but if they were hidden, there was a reason.

Which brought him back to that mysterious chest.

It sat there - this Pandora's Box - taunting Sam to open it. He knew better than to be tempted, but it was like a siren song pulling Sam to the shore, ready to crash and burn into the rocks. The hunter approached it cautiously, unsure what to do when he arrived at its side. _Just a quick peek inside. It won't harm anything._ Were those even his words? Why was this chest so alluring?

He tripped on his gargantuan feet, now feeling a tug – a _need_ - that he couldn't explain. It felt like he had little command over his limbs as they slowly inched towards the prize.

_Everything is in here for a reason._

"No. There's something wrong." Sam stopped; his mind clearing briefly as he overcame the desire to rip the trunk open and unleash the riches inside. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself as he continued to eye the artifact suspiciously.

_Oh, yes... YOU are the one...finally…_

The room closed in on him, darkening his vision with a frightening swiftness. A chill crawled up Sam's spine; feeling another presence in the area forcing a shiver. His eyes never strayed far from the chest and the draw began again -- stronger, _rougher_ than before. Sam tried to stand his ground, but his feet literally dragged on the floor as he moved towards the chest. What was so special about this ancient vessel? Why did it want him to open it?

"Sam? Did you say something?" The sharp call from above snapped Sam's hypnosis for only a moment before the unseen force began violently wrapping its fierce tendrils even deeper; strangling the mental barrier Sam was erecting to keep it out. He couldn't breathe.

"De.." Almost a whisper, barely a cry. Certainly not loud enough to elicit the Big Brother response he needed now.

The struggle continued. He tried with all his might, but Sam couldn't fight it. It _told_ him he couldn't fight it. A cloudiness overtook him as he got closer and closer, feeling the power emanating from the coffer. It was only a few feet in front of him now and soon he'd know the beauty of what was inside. The contents were the most important thing to him…

"I can't…"

Sam's brow exploded with sweat as he gave one last-ditch effort, knowing that whatever was inside should _not_ be let out. That somehow, he would have to stop it, no matter what.

_This_ is what Bobby warned them about; these items were dangerous.

Sam's clothes stuck to his chest like a second skin, drenching the cotton instantly as he continued to clash against the unnatural draw. His vision swam and he closed his eyes at the onslaught to his senses. Then, all at once, something broke inside of him; tore his soul into a million pieces as his body lunged for the box, his will no longer his own.

The young hunter blanketed the chest, felt every knob, hinge and decoration jabbing into his massive frame. It seemed to pulse inexplicably beneath him like a living being. His hand fell to the side, grasping for the locking mechanism, slicing his finger on an unusually sharp edge. He felt the bolt between his fingers, cold and hard from years of untold abuse. His body slid to the ground in front of the chest, regarding the task at hand. Watching through glassy eyes at what was going on around him.

The lock seemed to vibrate in anticipation as he grasped it, feeling the secret to releasing the cargo slowly filtering into his mind. A thousand pinpricks attacked his skull, violating his sense of being. Sam was a prisoner in his own body as the fog of deception addled his brain.

Then he heard it – the _clump clump_ of boots coming down the stairs. A buried part of his soul jolted at the sound of salvation but could do nothing to alert his brother of the dangers about to be released.

Foreign words penetrated his mind as he spoke in a tongue long-dead. He lifted the lock, smearing a droplet of blood from his wound in the process. Sam's other hand cupped the latch, pressing flesh to the metal.

"Sam?"

Sam panicked and continued to spout the dialect faster; his lips pronouncing the spell with ease, as if it were second nature.

"Sam! Get away from that. What the hell are you doing?" The voice betrayed the fear it held as strong arms tried to yank him from the chest. But the entity attached to this reliquary was not letting go of Sam. Not until it got what it wanted.

And then the lock disengaged.

A thick, yellow smoke seeped menacingly from the trunk, enveloping the youngest Winchester in a swirling mass, tossing Dean aside like an old shoe. Sam gasped in awareness as he watched the haze come at him from all positions, finally back in control after completing the task assigned to his body. It regarded Sam for only a moment, verifying its decision before the hunter's torso stiffened -- the invasion taking hold.

It shrouded him like netting, capturing Sam's spirit. He couldn't move or breathe; his eyes closed as if in communication with the being on a higher plain. All sound was blocked; no light, but a soft smell almost like vanilla permeated the air.

The vapor dispersed as quickly as it came. Sam stayed upright for a few seconds before he angled for the ground, crashing violently to the wooden floor.

"Sammy! No!"

**-o-o-o-**

Dean watched the inevitable collapse in slow motion, mist dissipating around his brother, leaving a distinct odor in its wake. He raced to his sibling's side, checking for a pulse and sighing in relief when he found it strong. Pulling his immense brother into his arms, he started the soft coos of comfort, wondering what the hell had happened in the few minutes they were apart.

"It's okay, Sammy. I gotcha." The mantra continued as he studied his brother for any additional signs of abnormality, pushing back his chestnut hair and feeling for bumps and scratches. Obviously, something had occurred, and it wasn't good. Anytime anything attacked his brother, there'd be hell to pay!

And where the hell did that chest come from anyway? Dean didn't remember seeing it upon their arrival. What was Sam doing with it?

Sam stirred, brow furrowed in concentration, but his eyes remained closed.

"Come on, Sam. Open your eyes for me." Dean coaxed his brother, willing him to be alright; at least alright enough to figure out what was going on with this damn trunk and why it attacked him.

Sam continued to struggle for alertness, reaching a hand for Dean's shirt and pulling it to him with a clenched fist. Searching for comfort in their world of chaos.

"Dean…sorry."

At that, Dean's heart dropped, knowing that the scenario couldn't be good. "Nothing to be sorry for, Sammy. But we gotta get out of here and away from this damn box. So, you have to open your eyes and let me know that you're ready to go." The panic was carefully masked in his voice.

Eyelids fluttered and endeavored to open. Small slits finally made themselves known as Dean watched his brother fighting off the ambush of confusion. A few minutes later, Dean cajoled them to half-mast.

"Sam? You with me? What's going on?" Dean looked at his brother, waiting for the final stages of waking. Right now, the most important thing was getting Sam out of there and away from the chest. With a final shake, he was able to get the response he needed from Sam, blinking back his disbelief at what he saw as he came awake. "No! You're not…"

"What is it? Dean?"

Dean sat Sam up against the chest, forgetting that it might still be dangerous, but hoping whatever damage it had to do was finished. He involuntarily scooted back a bit, looking again at Sam, only to see a glaze of gold perched in his irises.

"Sam, your eyes are yellow."


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! MANY THANKS for all the very kind reviews, alerts and favorites! You sure know how to welcome a girl back! :D

Okay, here starts the weird...

:D

Caroline

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

"I can't explain it, Bobby. We weren't apart for more than five minutes. Ten, max!" Dean ran a shaky hand through his cropped hair, staring back at his nearly catatonic brother strategically balanced against the trunk. Sam hadn't moved since he learned of his plight. "There was no chest when we arrived. Nothing! It just did a Houdini and showed up. It wanted Sam. It was _waiting_ for him to be alone before it made its move. Damn it, I left him alone! And now…."

"_Alright, just calm down. What's done is done. Now we just have to figure out what it means and how to fix it," _the older hunter advised from his home library. _"We know that most of the artifacts there are ancient__Greek, so we have something to start with. Does it look familiar to you in any way? Anything you can think of?"_

Dean walked over to the open chest, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to set the damn thing on fire, but he had no idea what, if anything, that would do to Sam.

"No." Dean caught a whiff of something in the air. "Perfume. It smells like some kind of perfume. I can't put my finger on it. And Sam isn't… He's not talking." The hunter turned away from his brother just out of earshot but close enough to sprint to Sam at a second's notice. "I don't know whether he's in shock or something worse. He kinda had a meltdown when I said _Christo_. I don't think he'll be much good to me at the moment."

The sigh was eminent from the other end of the phone_. "Look. We know it isn't a demon, so that's a good thing. I know you're not gonna like this, but I think you should bring that thing back here…"_

"Are you out of your freaking head, Bobby? After what it just did to Sam? What else it might do? I don't want it anywhere near him!" Dean gripped the phone harder, continuing his pace around the room like a caged animal.

"_I think whatever it needed Sam to _do_, it _did_. Bringing it here shouldn't cause him any other ill. I can study it and figure out what the hell it is."_

"How 'bout I just take a picture of it? Then it won't be around us?" Dean walked back towards Sam who exuded exhaustion from every part of his body. He tried to gain his attention, but Sam was lost in his own miseries.

"_Just bring it to me. It's the only way I can know for sure."_ The gruff voice left no room for argument. _"But you might as well send me the picture now."_

"Is there anything I can do to make it safer?"

"_You'll be fine, Dean. Just watch out for your brother. Look for any kind of signs of, well…"_ Bobby didn't have to finish the thought. Yellow only meant one thing to the Winchesters, even if Sam had passed the _Christo_ test_. "I have some research to start on and some calls to make. See ya when you get here."_

"Thanks." The call ended and Dean's heart sank.

**-o-o-**

The panicked conversation slid in and out of Sam's consciousness, but he caught the key phrases and the intonation of Dean's voice. He was freaked. _Really_ freaked. And if Sam's eyes were actually yellow, he couldn't blame his brother one bit.

But it didn't feel like possession. Well, not really. Something was off, but he didn't know what. He had control now, so that meant something else was going on. The power of whatever was in the chest had consumed him, molding Sam to its will. The last time he'd been through something like that, Dr. Ellicott was fingering his gray matter. His body quaked at that thought and from across the room, he felt Dean thunder to his side.

"Sammy? You okay?" A firm grip on his shoulder made itself known as the worry radiated from Dean. "Hey? You with me now?"

Sam tentatively looked at his brother, praying that the yellow was gone. He was greeted by that crooked smile that said things were back on the right track. Dean was a good actor, but Sam could still read him like a book.

"Is it gone?" Hope leaked from Sam's hushed voice as he blinked at his brother.

A sigh, followed by relaxed posture, told him what he needed to know. "Yeah, Sammy. We're good. How do you feel?"

Sam reached an arm requesting assistance and Dean had them both on their feet with a swoop of his limb. He teetered a moment, but found his balance as he shuffled away from the chest.

"I'm still dizzy, but better," Sam replied, planting his feet on the floor. He looked back down at the chest, feeling no attachment now. Dean's arm fell to his side as he trusted Sam on his own. "I have no idea what happened or where the hell it came from! I mean, I know that once I saw it in the corner it pulled me to it, but once it opened… I don't remember anything."

"I thought I heard you talking to someone from upstairs, so I came back down." Dean offered, eying his brother, still glimpsing to make sure that everything was status quo. "You were doing the horizontal tango with the box and then you opened the lock as you mumbled something. The smoke came out and then you took a header onto the floor."

Sam considered the explanation, trying to fill in the missing gaps of time when he noticed the cut on his finger. Thinking nothing of it, he continued with his limited recounting. "All I know is that it _wanted_ to be opened, and I tried to… I couldn't stop it." Shoulders hunched at the failure to prevent another evil thing roaming free in the world.

"Look, we'll figure this out, okay? Bobby wants us to bring it back so he can _study_ it." Dean looked at the smear on Sam's jeans of the fresh blood. "That alright?"

Sam nodded, grateful that Dean was with him. "I heard part of that conversation while my head was still clearing." He hunched back over the trunk and closed the lid, observing the inscriptions on the top and side. "We definitely know it's Greek but I don't know what any of this means."

Sam pawed the carvings now with interest, seeing a tree and what appeared to be deities fashioned around it. A few letters from the Greek alphabet were also etched, but not spelling anything immediately recognizable. "I definitely know the book to look at once we get to Bobby's. It's an ancient tome of Greek mythology…"

Dean held his hand up to stop the madness. "_Now_ I know you're alright. Geek Boy, or should I say _Greek_ Boy, strikes again! Come on, Aristotle, let's get out of here." He reached down and grabbed the chest, heaving it up to his shoulder.

"I'm impressed! Nice tie-in, Hercules! But you're not carrying that thing alone." Sam took the other end of the chest as they walked it out the door and into the Impala.

**-o-o-**

After a quick drive-through meal, the boys were on the road. Sam succumbed to sleep shortly after eating, and it put Dean immediately on edge. Not only did he have another two hours before they'd get to Bobby's that would now be in silence, but the horror of the yellow smoke surrounding his little brother kept playing itself out in his mind over and over like a bad skip on a record. What had it done to him? Would they be able to fix it? He knew that going to see the older hunter was the best answer but it didn't stop the fidgeting and tapping of nervousness that had overtaken Dean's body.

Too much had gone wrong this year, and he'd be damned if he was going to let Sam get hurt for nothing. Especially in light of why they were at the secret museum in the first place. He'd fought the idea of the break in, but Sam had gotten desperate these last few weeks, searching for something, _anything_, to get Dean out of the deal. After their encounter with Bela and the haunted ship, Sam had given him a hard time about his lackadaisical attitude regarding the deal. He could see the guilt eating away at his overly emotional brother, so he took the olive branch and agreed to the treasure hunt.

Later, he would wish he'd listened to his instincts.

**-o-o-**

Sam slept like a rock, which, in itself, wasn't unusual, but he was so still as the car bumped along. It was a healing sleep; only Sam wasn't injured. Dean gnawed on his fingernails, pushing the pedal down further, feeling the Impala respond to his demands. He was listening to Led Zeppelin _II_ as Robert Plant crooned out to the awesome guitar riffs and John Bonham went nuts on the drums in_ Moby Dick_. It mildly calmed him as he refocused his energies on getting his brother to safety.

The sun was setting and he knew the last bit of their journey would be shrouded in the dusk. He watched, with mild irritation, as the beams of light arched across the sky, smacking him in the face. Dean reached for his sunglasses on the bench seat between him and Sam, noticing a piece of lettuce hanging out from his brother's cuff.

"Rabbit food," Dean chuckled as he grabbed the leaf and removed it from the clothing.

"Ow! Cut it out, Dean," Sam roared violently as he yanked his sleeve away, suddenly awake. "Can't you just let me sleep?" And with that outburst, Sam turned back towards the window and was sawing logs again.

"What the…" That wasn't the reaction he'd expected. He looked at the lettuce a little closer and noticed it wasn't lettuce after all. It looked like some kind of leaf. "Well that's weird as hell." He turned it over, stealing glances at it as he continued his drive down the highway.

It looked like a typical, everyday leaf. Sam's reaction, however, was _not_ typical, and that set off all sorts of warning bells.

Desperate to see his brother's eyes to halt the nagging in his brain, Dean attempted to wake Sam up once again.

"Sammy!" Dean poked at Sam's shoulder until he got a response. "Sam! Wake up!"

Dean watched as Sam dug his fingers into his eyes, pulling sleep from them. The anticipation of the hazel staring back at him was almost too much to take. "Hey! You with me?"

Doe-eyed, with heavy blinking, Sam looked at his brother with concern as he understood the tone had underlying meaning. "Dean? What is it?"

Hazel. Normal. Sam was alright.

"I need a break. You wanna stop and get something to snack on?" Dean sent a quick glance over to Sam to try and hide his utter relief at the sight before him.

"My eyes still green, or are we heading for a devil's trap?" Coy, but with a touch of tease to it.

Dean sighed, feeling the weight of the world coming slowly off his shoulders. "No, your puppy dog eyes are still intact. No worries."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Sam barked back, absently rubbing his wrist as if he were in pain.

That got Dean's attention.

"Where do you think this came from?" Dean asked casually as he handed the leaf to Sam, watching his analysis.

Sam sniffed it, turned it over and puzzled over it. "I have no idea. Where did you get it?"

"It was peeking out from under your sleeve. I yanked it and that's when you cried out." His eyes pointing to where Sam was unconsciously massaging his hand.

That got Sam's attention.

He pulled up his sleeve and saw the red mark he'd been attending to. Sam turned the leaf over, looking at the stem's base. His eyes then travelled to the spot on his wrist. The mark on his arm held the same pattern as the stalk.

"How the hell did a leaf get _glued_ to me?" Sam continued to turn it over in his hand, fascinated by the mystery before him.

"I don't like this. Not one bit. That bitch of a trunk is going down."

"Dean, how could it have anything to do with the leaf?" Sam questioned, looking back at the wooden box in the back seat.

The car slowed and Dean punched the brakes. He got out and keyed open the trunk of the car. Commotion was heard and Dean appeared at the back passenger side door, arms filled with blankets, their luggage and sundry items. "The trunk's going in the trunk. I don't want it near you."

Wisely, Sam knew not to argue with Dean when he was in this state, so he got out, following Dean's lead, wanting to assist with the relocation of the items from the trunk the back seat. Another creak announced the readiness of the boundless objects that would be sure to make their way to their new, temporary home in the rear seat. Sam was about to push over the chest to the other side of the car so they could pull it out easier when Dean bit his head off.

"Don't touch it! Just stay away." The creak of the hinges closed and Dean ran to the other side, jerking the coffer with almost inhuman strength, throwing it into the back of the car, slamming the trunk shut.

He made his way back to the steering wheel, eyes wild. "It has a _tree_ on it, Sam. What the hell do you think that means?" Dean's body was shaking at the thought of something else hurting his brother. His face was reddened, both from exertion and anger, but he kept himself in check.

Dean saw Sam watching him but, he didn't care. Something was going on, and he didn't mind Sam knowing that he was just a little freaked out by the whole thing.

"Hey, we'll work it out, okay?" Sam answered as Dean started the car, revving the engine and pealing back onto the road. "With Bobby on the case, we're sure to figure it out."

Dean nodded, not trusting his voice, and the tore down the highway.

**-o-o-**

Sam pulled the phone out as soon as Dean had calmed down, which took longer than Sam had expected. That gave him additional time to think some things through regarding this strange chest and the comments his brother had made.

"Bobby? Have you got any idea what this thing is yet?" Sam asked, hoping the man had some more clues so they could work out this mystery.

"_I grabbed the _Ancient Texts of the GreeksVolume IV_ and started paging through it,"_ Bobby responded, pages still turning as he continued the conversation. _"From the picture you sent, the tree is definitely sacred. The letters on either side of it seem to spell the equivalent of "life" and "death" so I'm doing some cross-checking."_

There was a pause as Bobby seemed to note there was something wrong. _"What happened?"_

Sam huffed. He had some unfounded theories rifling through his brain and he knew that none of them could be good. The key was letting Bobby know what he thought without panicking Dean yet. "I seem to have picked up a leaf that attached itself to me. We're not quite sure where it came from," Sam answered coolly, glancing sideways at Dean. "Dean is afraid that the proximity of the chest is, um, _affecting_ me."

"_What do you mean?"_

"Honestly, I'm not a hundred percent sure, but the fact that there's a tree on this chest, and I mysteriously have a leaf glued to me…"

"_Glued to you? Spill, boy."_

Sam's stomach dropped to the floor. He wanted to talk to Bobby about the chest and mythology but Sam knew Dean would not want to hear what he was about to say. He'd hoped to avoid it until they got to the house.

Readying himself for the onslaught, Sam took a staggering breath and plunged forward. "I think…I think it grew. From me."

"What?" The stereo screams from both Dean and Bobby made Sam shudder as he voiced his concerns to his family.

"The stem was the exact shape as what Dean pulled from my skin, like when you take a leaf from the branch, the mark it leaves behind. I don't know any other way it could have been attached to me unless it actually _grew_ from me."

"Sam? What the hell are you talking about?" Dean said in an anxious voice.

Sam looked to Dean, feeling all the anxiety from him. Unfortunately, if they were going to figure this out, he needed to spill what he knew – or thought he knew. There would be no protecting Dean from the truth.

"The leaf reminded me of something that Jessica bought once. She used to get these fancy creams and moisturizers from these specialty houses," Sam answered, knowing that in normal circumstances he'd be called a girl for remembering this sort of thing.

But these weren't normal circumstances.

"As I turned the leaf over and smelled it, it came back to me. I'm pretty sure it's a myrrh leaf. And that would explain the vanilla smell."

"The perfume? I smelled that, too, right after…" Dean was putting the pieces together along with his brother. "But what's so significant about myrrh?"

"_Greek gods and myrrh are not a good thing, Sam. What are you thinking?"_ Sam could tell Bobby was on the same trail.

"The legend of Adonis. He was born from a myrrh tree after his mother, Myrrha was tricked into committing incest with her father, Theias."

Dean's face blanched as he listened to the one-sided conversation, not liking it one bit. "So, what does this have to do with the chest?"

Sam continued the tale from memory, answering both Dean and Bobby. "After Theias realized what had happened, he chased after his daughter, with the intent of killing her. Aphrodite saw Myrrha's plight and turned her into a _myrrh_ tree. Theias shot an arrow into the tree and Adonis was born from the split in the bark."

"So, _again_, I ask, what does this have to do with the chest, Sam?" Dean asked with a little more heat in his voice. His hands were gripped around the steering wheel, white-knuckled. He didn't like where this was going.

"I'm not sure, but the chest seems like it might be connected to Adonis. The two deities hovering over the tree. The words 'life' and 'death' in Greek. So, if we understand these carvings correctly," Sam took a deep breath as he continued on with his theory. "It looks like someone is attempting reincarnate Adonis back from the dead."


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay. I'm having some family issues with my father. I've been gone most of the week but have tried to get back to everyone. If I missed you, I apologize!

So, do you all think I'm nuts? Wait til you read this one. Crack!abound! Definitely not _limp_!Sam here, but… well, you'll see. Some of you have figured it out in your very kind reviews. Thanks also to those reading, and those that have alerted and add this to your favorites.

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

The Impala screeched to a halt as it blew through the salvage yard to Bobby's front door. They were greeted by the older hunter who took in their ragged appearances. The best way to get them through this was to get right down to business.

"Boys. So where's this chest of yours."

Dean was already keying the lock before the words were out of Bobby's mouth, grabbing the handle and ripping it to the ground with a thud.

"Easy, boy. We might need it to…to figure out what's going on here. If you damage it, we might have even more problems."

Bobby could see the stress in Dean's face, the kind that always came when his little brother was threatened.

Dean's next words confirmed how on edge he was. "Let's get this piece of shit inside and figure out what the hell is going on with Sam." He tugged the chest up the stairs and into the library, leaving the other men alone.

Bobby hung back with Sam, checking him over. "How do you feel? Any other affects?"

Sam shook his head. "I never really got rid of the dizziness, but other than the one leaf, so far so good. I haven't checked, but I don't feel anything else, um, growing."

Bobby's stomach dropped. _He'd _sent them to the museum to find the artifact to try and break Dean from the deal, and now, who knew what the consequences would be.

They started to walk towards the door, not anxious to meet the wrath of Dean inside. "Bobby, I'm not sure how this is going to play out, but if the legend is regenerating…"

"Then Adonis needs a tree to be born again. Yeah, I got it. The question is, why now? I haven't heard of anything that mildly connects Greek Gods to modern day evils. Adonis was a vegetation god, helping with harvests. What could he want on Earth, now?"

The questions lingered between them as they stepped into the house, finding Dean ablaze with anger.

"So? What've you got, Bobby? How do we kill this bitch?"

Bobby stepped to the chest and looked at the markings, fingering the grooves and pictures. "Yeah, this is definitely a myrrh tree – look at the thorns on the branches. And I'd imagine that these two gods are Aphrodite and Persephone, fighting over Adonis." He straightened up with a grunt and looked to Sam. "I think your theory is right, Sam."

"Great. We agree. Adonis is trying to come back," shouted Dean, the frustration getting the better of him as he sent a kick to the chest. "Now, what do we do about it?"

"More research, I guess. See what else is out there. Find the origin of the chest." Sam walked further into the library, searching out the book that Bobby already had open on the desk.

"You boys hungry? Can't really do sufficient work without sustenance."

"We grabbed fast food, but there's always room for beer," Dean replied, making his way back into the kitchen and to the fridge. "Sam? You want one?"

"I'm gonna have some water. I'm really thirsty." Sam wandered back in, book in tow, and pulled out the biggest glass he could find. He downed the first glass without blinking and filled it again.

"Hey, save some for the fishes," Dean griped, grabbing the cup away from his brother, concerned. "You really need that much water? You'll wet the bed."

Sam attempted a laugh and Bobby watched the interaction between the two. He knew Sam understood the implications of the myth and he was trying to resolve it before Dean put all the pieces together – which wouldn't take long. This was going to get ugly, and fast.

-o-o-o-o

They were spread out all over the library, each in their own cubby hole looking for the answers. Dialogue hadn't occurred in a while as no one had found anything of particular relevance.

Dean stretched his back with a groan at being still for too long. He made eye contact with Bobby who shook his head. They turned to Sam, hoping he'd fared a little better.

"Hey, Sammy! Find anything?"

But there was no response. Sam's back was to them as he had piles of books around him. Now on high alert, Dean raced to his brother's side. He barely relaxed when he realized Sam was sleeping.

"Sammy?"

Nothing.

Bobby flanked Sam from the other side and they both attempted to wake Sam, pulling him back from the table to get a better look at him under the light.

Sam's skin was now a darker shade of brown and he had what looked like buds protruding from various points on his face. His hands also held the dark hue; fingernails longer than normal and they sported a deep black color. The large veins on the top of his fist were now bulbous and grainy, with small thorns poking out. A few leaves had found their home along his skin, closer to the sleeves.

"What the….Nonono!! Sammy!"

Dean grabbed Sam's shirt and rolled up his cuffs to see more leaves and thorns growing at a rapid rate. The prominent hair on his arms had now grown thick and spindly, like a bark coating. Dean's desperation led to him ripping the front buttons on Sam's shirt, exposing his brother's chest to find the same scenario in an advanced state.

"Is he…is that bark? Is he turning into a myrrh tree?" Dean gawked at his little brother, stepping back, unable to comprehend what was going on. Not believing what his eyes were telling him. "Bobby? How did this happen so fast? It's been fifteen minutes since we've said anything to each other…"

The anxiety in Dean's voice brought tears to Bobby's eyes. "We'll figure this out, kiddo. I promise." The older hunter gingerly took one of Sam's hands into his own, squeezing the hardened skin. "We have to wake him up. Now! I think the virus alters him when he's asleep."

Dean didn't have to be told twice what to do. The car ride popped into his mind as he grabbed a hold of several leaves and barklike material, ripping them from Sam's chest with fury.

"Ahhhh!"

Sam's eyes sprang open, panting from the pain. Hazy, unfocused orbs searched for the source of the discomfort, only to find a worried Dean and Bobby in his face.

"Dean?" Panic now filled Sam's eyes as he looked between the men in front of him. Reading their expressions, he lifted his arms, turning them over as he saw the brownish mutation growing from him. All over him. "Holy shit!" And he promptly leaned over and threw up all the water he'd drunk an hour earlier, along with a yellow substance swirled in the mixture.

Dean held him as Bobby got the trash can. The rigid, coarse feeling of Sam's skin held myriad bumps and thorns in every direction. Dean could feel the change without even looking as it spread throughout Sam's body like wildfire. It took all of Dean's willpower to not follow suit to the can.

"It's alright, Sammy. We'll figure this out." Dean's soothing voice accompanied his hand as it stroked the back of Sam's head, the chestnut locks now gristly and terse.

Sam reached for the water to rinse his mouth, but Bobby snatched it away. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Sam. The way you downed the water before probably helped move this process along. I'll find you a hard candy to get rid of the taste."

"Dean…"

"I know, Sammy." Dean looked at Sam, hopelessness filling the still-hazel eyes that stared back at him, begging him to make it all go away. Dean was instantly taken back to their childhood when Sam had scraped his knee, crocodile tears streaming down his face. A simple touch would make it better back then. Overcome by emotion, Dean squeezed Sam's arm as a gesture of love, but realized it actually hurt both of them.

Throwing caution to the wind, though, he grabbed Sam and pulled him to a hug.

"This is really fucked up, you know?" he said into Sam's shirt, feeling the thorns prick out into his own skin, pushing the reality of what was happening home. He could only imagine what it was doing to his brother, but Sam did not pull away.

Bobby walked in silently to the scene before him. It was rare that these two showed this much emotion. He knew they were both scared of where this was going, and if they couldn't stop it in time…

Bobby coughed, letting them know he had returned. The brothers pulled back, looking at each other as if for the last time. The grizzled hunter held out the roll of LifeSavers and snorted at the irony. "Maybe it's a sign? It's all I have, sorry."

Sam returned a crooked smile, pulling himself together. He took three circles and popped them into his mouth, instantly happier with this flavor. Looking down, he noted the bare skin where Dean had yanked out the leaves, pulling him from his slumber. In their place was a yellow ooze that dripped onto his pants.

That's the gum resin of the myrrh tree," Sam stated matter of factly with the mouth full of candy. "I finally figured out why the smoke was yellow as it attacked me – it's the resin in the bark. At least, some of it was. You have to cut the bark to get it for myrrh oil, which is yellow. But when it hardens, it turns into clumps of reddish-brown." As if on cue, he scraped some of the substance with his long fingernails from the top of his pants. He handed it to Bobby.

"So this thing was actually myrrh resin? What the hell does that even mean?" Dean looked between Sam and Bobby hoping for some kind of answer, liking less and less how this was coming together.

"I think the entity needs the resin in order to complete the transformation of the…victim." Sam palmed a book on magical herbs, flipping cautiously to the page about the myrrh tree and handed it to Dean. "When the chest was drawing me to it, I thought I heard a voice that said 'I was the one,' but I shook it off at the time. Well, I can tell you that there _is_ an entity associated with the resin and I'm pretty sure it's Adonis. And it's trying to ready my body."

Dean gulped as he dared to ask, not able to look his brother in the eye. "For what?"

"So he can be reborn of a myrrh tree. Just like the myth."

Dean was up and furious, stomping around the room. "No! _Hell_ no!" He threw the herb book down and grabbed the legend, reading the whole thing again.

"I think Adonis' spirit has been trapped in this chest," Sam began, throwing the rest of his knowledge to the table, understanding time was of the essence. "The myth speaks of a box that he was placed in as a baby. At first, Aphrodite gave him to Persephone to raise in Hades and Adonis became her lover. When Aphrodite saw the beauty of Adonis, she demanded him for herself. Somehow, after his death, he must have been bound to this vessel, waiting for someone to release him."

Sam tried to rise, but found his joints stiff and pained. He gasped as he tried to pull more air into his lungs, knowing that if he didn't keep moving, keep breathing, the virus would take a quicker hold.

Bobby stepped in, seeing that Sam was exhausted. "We also know that Adonis was killed by a boar's tusk, probably in a fit a jealousy by one of Aphrodite's lovers. Again, the ladies _both_ wanted him in death and Zeus had to step in. So, Adonis stayed with Aphrodite for half the year – the summer months - and went to Hades for the other half."

"Sign me up for the topside," Dean added, feeling the uncomfortable tension in talking about Hell. "But if he died, why is he bound to this chest?"

"Since 600 BC, there has been an "Adonis cult" of young women that started on the island of Lesbos off the Greek coast and supposedly still continues this day. They honor his life and death cycle - Summer and Winter months. It looks like they might have found a way to bind him to the box. Maybe because he was born from a _tree_, he could be bound to the _wooden_ chest? And now, after all these years, they discovered a way to really bring him back," Bobby added, validating Sam's own research.

"Lesbos? Really? Oh, if this wasn't so serious…" Dean shoved his hands in his pockets in frustration.

Sam had to snort at Dean's one-track mind, turning slowly to Bobby. "Actually, that makes sense, Bobby. The essence of Adonis was born of the tree. It would probably be pretty easy to attach his spirit back to it."

"Great, so we think we know how this happened, the question is, why Sam? And how the hell do we kill it without…." _killing Sam…_

Sam coughed at the silence. "It still needs me, or at least part of me, after it's…born." That snapped everyone's attention back. "Now it's trying to unite with my mind and spirit. When it's reborn, it'll discard my body while its spirit wraps with my own. Every time I fall asleep, it keeps telling me it's my destiny to do this. That I was chosen…" He had the grace to look sheepish, knowing he should have already told Bobby and Dean about his dreams while unconscious.

"This is bullshit, Sam! I'm sick to death of all this destiny crap! How can you…"

And then, Dean lost it. He grabbed a knife and went straight for the box, murder in his eyes. "You can't do this. He's my brother, not yours to play with!" He screamed and kicked the chest, raising his arms for the killing blow with the knife.

"Dean! Stop! You don't know…" Bobby's voice fell on deaf ears as the knife struck blindly, hitting above the word "life."

"Ahhh!!"

Sam fell to the floor in a heap, writhing in pain, blood pouring from his shoulder. He tried to reach it to suppress the flow of blood, but his movements were arthritic and he could barely grab at the spot.

"Dean!" Bobby was at Sam's side instantly, pressing against the wound.

Leaving the knife where it was, he ran back to Sam. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean… oh, God, Sammy. I'm sorry."

"Pull….it…out…" Sam choked out the words, trying to stay awake; fearful of what awaited him in the lolls of sleep. It would be worse than living through the pain of the knife wound.

Bobby ran to the chest and twisted the knife back and forth, trying to remove it from the lumber. He heard Sam screaming, knowing that everything he did was directly related to Sam's pain. "Oh, God…" And with a sudden burst of strength, he removed the dagger straight up, with a stumble backwards. Throwing the knife to the ground, he raced back to the library to check on Sam.

Dean cradled his brother, still pressing on the wound through the solid skin, feeling the guilt of what he'd done to his brother with every drop of blood that left Sam's body. The thorny spikes jutted into Dean's forearms as he held on tight, welcoming his own pain, willing it all to him. He watched as Sam's ache seemed to fade after Bobby got the knife out of the chest.

"Better… thanks." Sam struggled to sit up again, every twinge apparent on his coffee-stained facial features. He looked to Dean with forgiveness. "You didn't know. Don't go there…"

"Sam." The voice was a whisper through fear, flashes of Cold Oak filtering through his mind.

"Well, I guess that answers whether Sam and the chest are connected," Bobby offered as he moved back into the room, careful to stay out of Dean's reach. He knew the boys were both time bombs – one emotional, the other physical. It was just a crap shoot to see who went off first.

-o-o-o-o-

After the knife was removed, the empathetic wound on Sam's shoulder stopped bleeding, leaving behind a deep scar on the bark from the attack. The incident had drained the men even further, already fighting the stress and fatigue of dealing with the supernatural.

This whole situation was surreal, even for them.

"So, we know that a boar's tusk is what killed Adonis – the _man_ – and we know that he was born of the tree. What we need to figure out is how to get him out of Sam and kill him." When Bobby put it like that, it all seemed so simple.

_Yeah, right!_

Dean studied Sam, who seemed to be having a hard time getting a lungful of air. Every few minutes, he watched as Sam stared off into space, losing concentration unless he was spoken to. His brother's face was even darker than before, with greenish-pink thorns poking out further. Dean could see the bumps and tips of the thorns breaking through the clothing on his brother's back.

While Sam would have been more comfortable removing his shirt to give him more freedom of movement, Bobby seemed to think that if additional photosynthesis could not occur, the change would be less rampant. So far, the theory seemed to ring true. Even though the majority of the damage had been created when Sam slept, the slow transformation continued with each passing moment.

To Sam's credit, he was holding his own, still contributing to the problem-solving as much as he could. Dean could tell that a tiny bit of this fascinated his brother – in a sick sort of way. But Sam was now bone-weary, and the lack on incessant geek-talk was making Dean silently frantic.

"It looks like the 'bark' you ripped from me isn't growing back at as fast of a pace," Sam offered, fingering open his shirt with the elongated, black nail, poking at the rigid, dry husk covering him. "My skin is still more of a shade of yellow there than brown. Maybe if you keep, well, removing it, it'll give me some more time."

Bobby cringed at the thought of literally pulling the outer flesh from the young man and telegraphed that idea loud and clear to Dean as he scrunched his face.

"I don't think so, Sammy. That was pretty…awful." Dean sat next to his brother observing the patch of skin he spoke of.

Sam rolled his eyes – still hazel and distinctly Sam – at his brother, lifting his limbs slowly from the table. "Yeah, because turning into a _tree_ isn't awful!" He caught Dean's lost stare and implored, "I can feel my insides changing, hardening, Dean. Pretty soon, it won't matter…"

"Okay, just hold on here – both of you! Let's just think this through," the stern voice interceded between the brothers. Bobby fingered his beard as he started to assemble some sort of plan using Sam's ideas as a diving-off point. "I have a dagger made from a tusk – it's just not boar – but I think that'll be enough to kill Adonis. The myth is rather vague and it comes down to the fact that he was killed by a 'wild animal' so I think we'll be alright. The tricky part is getting him out of Sam."

The stiff movements of the youngest Winchester drew eyes to him, letting them know that he'd been thinking of ways to make this happen.

"I think if we force Adonis to bind his soul to mine, we can pull him out with a ritual. In the Greek culture, binding spells were used for everything from love to judicial matters. I'm sure we can find the right ritual in these books. But, he still needs to be 'born,' which is the part I'm not so thrilled about."

"Oh, because _binding_ him to your _soul_ is such a great idea. I don't like this! Damn it!" Dean jumped up and fueled with anger again.

"Just hear me out, alright?" Sam started, trying to keep some kind of movement going in his arms and legs to prevent freezing up as he paced slowly back and forth. "We know I'm connected to the trunk, right? So, what if we do _surgery_ on the trunk – probably on the carving of the myrrh tree – down the middle? As long as a part of the knife stays in the trunk, the wound will stay open, like with the knife wound. That should be enough to pull him out with the spell," Sam reasoned, looking to Dean then to Bobby. "The legend states the myrrh tree was split and he was born, but I'm not sure what that will mean this time around."

"Whether he'll be corporeal or just a spirit," Bobby added, making sure he was on the same track as Sam.

"Right. So, after you make the incision on the trunk and get rid of Adonis in whatever form he'll be in, I should heal with just a scar. You guys do the cleansing and hopefully I get turned back from Pinocchio."

Dean watched Sam expel his story like it was no big deal. He was calm and methodical about his plan – like they were on a normal hunt – putting the pieces together about their next move. What was worse was that Bobby was buying into this theory.

"Are you absolutely freaking _nuts_, Sam? There is no way in hell that we're doing this! I'm not _cutting_ you open! We are _not_ binding your soul. You hear me? Do _not_ pass go, do _not_ collect $200! We'll find another way."

Dean ran a hand down his face, trying to calm himself, knowing that getting upset wasn't going to help. But this was Sam. This was crazy…

"It's not a bad theory, Dean," interjected Bobby, coming next to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him to face him. "I know this is hard, but look at him. He's _turning_ into a _tree_. We don't have a lot of options here, son. I think we need to give it a shot."

Sam sighed at the support from Bobby. He looked to Dean who shied away.

"Dean… please," Sam's breath hitched as his inhalation became more labored after his mini rant. His tone was soft and held a touch of desperation. "I don't have much time left. I can feel him… calling me, trying to lull me to sleep so he can take those final steps. It's so hard to keep fighting him. I…can't do this anymore. Please…"

And with that, Dean's heart broke.

"Sammy… I…"

"I know, believe me. This sucks out loud," Sam lumbered over to his brother, towering even farther over him, leaves and thorns everywhere to be seen. "This _is_ going to happen, and I can't do this…without going down swinging. I have to…give it a try."

He placed a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder, bringing Dean's eyes to his. "But if it doesn't work…maybe that'll break the deal? I die…no soul to save? Something good…will come from it?"

"_Don't_! Don't you say that," Dean growled, stepping back and eyeing the trunk. "I didn't do this for nothing. You are _not_ going to die!"

But, deep down, he knew Sam was right. They didn't do this without a fight. And he couldn't let his brother suffer anymore than he already was.

"Fine, but we're taking every precaution to do this right," Dean's eyes shot to Bobby. "And I'm the one who gets to kill Adonis!"

**-o-o-o-o-o**

So, see, I can't really call this _limp_!Sam, and I certainly can't call it _stiff!_Sam because, well, that's just a whole genre of fic in general and that's not my cup 'o tea. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter de-betaed in the next few days when I can come up for air. Thanks for reading!

Oh, and any mistakes are mine! Plus I don't own them...

;D

Caroline


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you for the kind reviews, especially to those I cannot thank personally. To my Spanish review – Gracias! That was very cool! Also for all the new alerts and favorites!

So, this is the ugliness. If you have a squeamish stomach, you might get grossed out. I'm warped – and cracked – so read at your own risk.

Thanks again to TraSan and Gem for all their encouragement, and thanks for the PMs about my dad; it is most appreciated.

Here we go… you've been warned!

;D

Caroline

**-o-o-o-o**

Sam knew this was the end. He could feel his body shutting down – arteries hardening, stomach contracting, blood flow slowing. While he was confident in their ability to find something to bind Adonis to his soul, the question remained whether it would be in time. And if they got that far, would he actually make it through the ceremony?

_So strong. You are the chosen. Sleep, my brother. Soon we'll be together…_

Doubt continued to fill his mind, clouding judgment and reason. He knew this was Adonis getting a firmer hold within, taunting and breaking him. Sam fought; shooed the thoughts away, but his discombobulated brain was having a hard time figuring out which way was up. Chants of unity wove their way through his mind as Adonis' taunts kept a constant vigil of attack on his weakening body and soul. Sleep called to Sam and he was ready to answer; wanting to succumb to the pull within. His eyes fluttered at the internal appeal to rest and the sounds around him creaked to a halt.

_Why do you resist? We must be as one… _

"Well, the good news is that there are so many ways to bind a soul in the Greek culture that we can pretty much make up our own spell. I didn't think it would be quite this easy, but it appears that it is," Bobby announced as he dug through _Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient World, _not noticing how out of it Sam was at first. "Sam? You with me?"

Sam's hooded eyes looked up to the hunter, trying to understand what he was saying. He paused a moment, realizing that he _had_ heard Bobby, but just needed to process the comments. Not trusting his voice at the moment, he nodded firmly at Bobby's request.

Bobby chose to continue so as not to make the room any more uncomfortable than it already was. "We just need to find a tablet to write the spell on, translate it to Ancient Greek, and we should be good to go!"

"Do you speak Ancient Greek, Bobby? I know _I_ missed that class in high school," Dean answered sharply, taking his worry for Sam out on the older hunter. "How the hell do we do that?"

"The internet…should be able to…do it for us," Sam puffed out in exhaustion in a gravelly tone, finally joining in the conversation. His movements were slow and required a lot of effort, but he needed to be a part of this.

"Great, then can we figure this out? I'm getting tired of you dripping sap and dropping leaves everywhere."

Sam took the comment for what it was – Dean in freak out mode. The more unsuitable the joke, the more scared he was. That was one of the things Sam loved best about his brother: no matter how bad things got, he had humor. Inappropriate, yes, but humor none the less. His eyes wandered off…

_I'll miss that…_

"Sam! I know that he's messing with your head, but we need you here. Now! No daydreaming."

Leave it to Dean to be able to read his mind. "I'm here."

They looked to Bobby, who was already at the table, scribbling down the spell with the help of the mythology of Adonis in front of him. He read aloud as he wrote:

"I bind the soul of Adonis, child of Myrrha, son of Theias, King of Syria to the soul of Samuel Winchester, child of Mary Campbell, son of Jonathon Winchester… Okay, that's the family heritage part to the best of our knowledge. Suggestions on how to do the next part?" Bobby questioned, scribbling furiously as he continued.

"How about, 'until Adonis is reborn of the myrrh tree…and susceptible again to death by tusk,'" Sam offered, taking a black fingernail to his abdomen in auto-response. He pulled all his strength to help complete his thoughts on the ritual. "'Upon final soul death, I bind…Adonis to the side of Persephone, mistress of…Hades for all eternity. I bind the soul…of Samuel Winchester to his body…once restored?' How does that work?"

"Wait! Where's the part where you don't die with him?" Dean cried. "Just binding you back to your body may not be good enough. I mean, do we even know that you'll…turn back? Isn't there some way to guarantee that?"

"We can only bind the soul, Dean. The magic of the change is another matter, and until Adonis is actually out of Sam, he needs to remains…tree-like – God, I did I even just _say_ that?" Bobby shook his head at his words. "We have to assume that once Adonis is dead, the damage he's done with his magic will revert back." He looked to Sam for his thoughts.

"I can't think of any way…to guarantee it. Maybe we burn…the trunk once he's out?" Sam added stiffly, looking for confirmation from Bobby. His movements were becoming slower and slower. "All I know…is that we need…to do this soon…" He blinked and found a chair, sitting down with a thud.

That spurred Dean into action, taking off to enter their spell for translation on the internet, hope bleeding through his pores that he wouldn't screw up.

What a scenario for an outsider to walk in on – a "tree" sitting at a table, talking about destroying a wooden trunk. Their lives were so screwed up.

After a moment, Sam found his voice again. "Bobby?"

"Yeah, kid?" Bobby was at his side, concern in his voice.

"Do you… do you think this will work?" Sam's husky voice was filled with anguish as he raised his head to reach Bobby's eyes. The pain he was feeling was now overwhelming, but he kept a strong façade for Dean. "I can't keep this up…"

Bobby ran a loving hand through Sam's straw-like hair, cupping the side of his thorny face. "I hope so, Sam. It seems to make sense; you just have to…go through it."

Sam nodded, understanding that this would be excruciating, as he turned his hands palms-up to watch the horrifying change continue through his body. His fingernails had grown even longer and harder, budding their own thorns now as the final preparations were made to his body.

Sam released a wheezing sigh and gazed to Bobby, understanding that a whole lot of things would have to go right in order for this to end up in their favor. A peacefulness overcame him and he looked to the gruff man with a new hope in his eyes. "Will the deal be broken… if I don't make it?"

The older hunter expelled his own hot air - hard and deep - indicating to Sam that he'd been thinking about the implications of this situation as well. He paused briefly before answering the question. "Yeah, Sam, I think it will. But let's not go there at the moment, okay? One problem at a time…"

"Can't help… but go there…Always looking…for an answer…"

A crook of a smile ghosted Sam's crusted and grooved face at the confirmation of his own thought process. His heavy head pulled upward as he tried to communicate his love through what little emotion he could still convey to the man before him.

They stayed in amiable silence for a moment. Sam could feel himself being drawn further under to Adonis' bidding as the spirit was persistent in its demands. His eyes closed as he listened to the voice, willing him to sleep.

_Soon, my brother, we will be together, as it was meant to be. Do not fight. There will be no more pain. Come with me… _

"Sam! Stop it! _Sammy!"_

Sam felt himself being shaken back awake, misty eyes looking up at his brother.

"Oh, God…No!"

Confused, Sam furrowed his solid brow with effort, eyes still expressive even with the additional strains of the situation.

"Sam, your eyes are yellow again!"

A jolt of fear shot through Sam as he tried to fight against the onslaught of pain and perplexity. Movement was next to impossible, save for small gestures. His ability to speak seemed to wane even further as the momentary lapse of alertness had done irreparable damage; the spirit gaining the final hold needed to make the transformation.

"Do it…can't wait…" He ground out, followed by a deep, wet cough; yellow mucus drizzling down his chocolate-colored chin. Sam listed to the side at expelling the thick saliva, hitting the table in response, scraping his hardened casing on the edge.

A piece of his darkened skin pulled off, registering immense pain. His awareness sharpened. He knew if he had any chance to save himself - to save _Dean_ - he'd have to work through this with Bobby and Dean. "Pull…the…bark…"

"What? Sam, we can't…"

"I can still…feel. It….brings me… 'round…" Sam reached for his own tough skin, trembling at the horror of the situation, and started to work a piece off; like picking at a festering scab. The black daggers, that were once his fingernails, pried under a porous chunk and began extracting it from his arm. Yellow tears leaked from his eyes as the agonizing pain reared its head.

"Ahhhh!"

"Sammy!" Dean ran to his side, grabbing the twig-like arm away. "God, Sam." He pulled Sam's head up to meet his eyes, ignoring the crunching bark-on-bark that now resided at the base of his neck. "Okay. Just…"

Sam blinked in response, still trying to catch a breath from his cemented lungs, gasping slightly as he pulled the air in. "I think I need…a receptacle…for my soul. Until…I can get back…"

Bobby was at their side. "That's not a bad idea. It may take a bit for your body to...heal. But it will!" he added at the last second. He ran from the room, returning with a small vase-like object. Bobby scribbled something down and handed it to Dean. "Go translate this, too. We'll put it on the back of the tablet."

Dean looked between the men for a moment, clearly contemplating whether he wanted his brother's soul in a goblet. The stern look from Bobby sent him on his way.

"This should do it, Sam. I feel pretty confident in this," Bobby said, kneeling to see the man before him. "You just need to stay strong, alright? Don't let Adonis convince you of anything else."

Sam nodded, still containing his pain. His wooden arm fumbled at his shirt and pulled it open. "Should take… the bark from here." He motioned from his neck down to his navel with exertion. "Easier…get out."

Bobby considered the suggestion and watched as Dean returned in record time from the computer. He held the tablet like a new child in his hands, adding the last bit of the binding spell to the back. The older hunter took the capsule from Dean and brought it to Sam. "Anything else we're forgetting?"

Pained eyes scrolled the item, then looked to the vase and shrugged. "Looks good. Don't…read Greek," he muffled, boughs moving to his chest, beginning to yank the coating again.

"What are you doing?" Dean approached his brother and pulled the arm back. "You don't need to do that."

"He thinks it'll be easier if the bark is gone from his chest," Bobby answered, taking a hold of a piece. "I think he's right." Fingers pulled a massive section without warning from the screaming man before him.

**-o-o-o**

The readied tablet was placed in the chest, since that was the closest thing to a grave for Adonis; the lock sealed with another piece of tusk Bobby had in his treasures. Dean had expertly transcribed both the translation and the pronunciation with assistance from the internet; now it was just the matter of actually going through with it.

Whatever "it" was.

For final preparation, the front of Sam's chest had been stripped of the bark in three quick rips, leaving viscous, yellow goo behind with that haunting scent of vanilla. The last rip had finally done Sam in as he finally passed out from the pain. That, in itself, helped to prompt the last part – binding Adonis to Sam.

Bobby turned to the chest behind him, delicately slicing the carving of the myrrh tree down the middle, careful to watch where the incision showed up on Sam. It landed right where Sam predicted it would and he halted the knife when the cut reached the base of Sam's belly button. Both crimson and yellow leaked from the wound, doing a tango as they dripped to the floor in silence.

Bobby kept the dagger wedged in the trunk to assure that the slit would remain open, like the shoulder wound before it. There was no response from Sam as his skin was split open. He seemed catatonic as the first steps of the ritual were set into play.

Bobby pulled the inscription from his pocket and started to recite the ancient Greek, wondering how this would all play out. Beside him, Dean stood poised and ready for Adonis, itching to eviscerate him with his bare hands for attempting to kill his brother.

A moan came from Sam as his once-still form gargled a painful breath. His battered chest arched as his golden skin divided, expelling more blood and resin in an equal mixture, creating an orange liquid that continued to stream and puddle on the floor. Sam's body quaked at the assault as small hands dug their way impossibly from his chest cavity.

"Oh my God!" Dean cried, pulling Bobby momentarily away from his chant as they both watched the body of a tiny child erupt from Sam's chest. Horrid slurping and popping sounds erupted from the unbending torso as the head followed suit. They both stood speechless at the rebirth of the ancient figure from the youngest Winchester.

"Finish it! Now!" Dean screamed, grabbing a firm hold of his tusk. As much as he wanted to yank the parasite from his brother, he knew it wouldn't do any good if the ritual was not complete.

Clouded eyes looked at Dean like something out of _Alien_ before making the final push to free itself from the 'womb' created by the primeval magic, seemingly oblivious to the chanting going on around it. It fell heavily to the ground, panting at the exertion of the birth, and lay for a moment taking in its new body.

Behind him, Sam's torso gave a huge sigh as blood continued to rush like a demented type of afterbirth from the gaping wound.

"Bobby?"

The last words left his mouth as a streak of light split in two directions from the young child before them – one to the vase, the other to the chest. Upon seeing the spell work, Dean grabbed the protruding knife from the wooden trunk, which closed the brutal gash on his brother's chest like automatic doors at a supermarket. The injury was angry and red, but sealed and looking more healed the longer the knife was away from the trunk.

The tiny vase glowed with what Dean hoped was Sam's soul. He looked to Bobby, who inspected the items with care before giving the authorization to finish the task at hand.

While the idea of killing a kid was not high on his list, Dean knew this was a monster that chose an innocent mask. He tossed aside the knife from the chest and pulled the tusk from his belt, thrusting it deep into the heart of Adonis, listening for the scream of death.

What he heard in stereo made his blood chill.

Along with Adonis' pleas for final breath, Sam echoed the death throes. Dean watched Sam arch his back again, convulsing, pulling in air as the struggles of Adonis became his own.

"Bobby, I thought they were separated! What the hell?" Dean yelled as he rushed to Sam's side, hoping to give him comfort.

"We must have missed something. Shit."

Desperate to save his brother, Dean ripped open the trunk. Inside, the tablet glowed eerily as the finality of the spell overtook the whole vessel. It rattled as it tried to break the enchantment. Then, just as quickly as it began, it stopped.

Sam shuddered at the end of the torture, falling limp to the floor with a crash.

They ran to his side, hoping to find a pulse at his neck, but the thick bark was preventing any path to ascertain the situation. Dean then addressed the scar as an alternate, tracing it upwards with no reaction from Sam. His trembling hand landed above Sam's heart, hoping that he'd feel something underneath his palm.

Bobby looked back to the vase that held Sam's soul, noting the faint light from within. He placed a hand to Dean who immediately looked to the same spot.

Sam was dying.

"No! Dean ran to the vase and yelled, "Don't you give up! Damn it! Sammy, don't you do that. Not after all of this. Don't you dare!"

Dean grabbed the trunk and raced outside, throwing it mercilessly to the gravel drive. The Impala was just around the bend and he pulled gas and matches from her backseat. He doused the trunk and quickly set the coffer aflame, jumping back from their sudden fierceness, not even feeling where he'd singed his eyebrows.

Racing back inside, he lunged to his brother's side, hoping to find some sign of recovery. Bobby held the vase with care, willing the light to shine brighter as he looked upon Sam.

Sam's mouth was slightly agape, eyes droopy and less rigid. His dark skin still held the bumps and crevices of the hardened bark. There was no sign of his lungs taking in air, no involuntary twitches of his lean muscles.

"Sammy?" Dean cried. He grabbed a hand, turning it over. The deep bark filled with thorns and buds stabbed at his calloused palm. Stabbed at his broken heart. A sob wracked his body as he pulled his brother into his arms

"Dean?" But there was no response, the boy too engrossed in his grief to acknowledge the man behind him. The voice came again. "Dean. Look!"

Tear-filled eyes adjusted to the hunter's frame as he followed his line of sight to the vase.

"It's stronger than before. He's fighting."

Dean watched the flicker disperse the darkness around it, filling the vase with a glow.

"Check the trunk. Make sure it's still burning," Dean told Bobby, not willing to let go of Sam. He grabbed his shoulders and gave a quick shake, hoping to elicit some kind of response. "I know you're in there, Sammy. You keep fighting, you hear me? You keep fighting!" With a sudden swell of anger, Dean grabbed another piece of the bark higher up on Sam's torso and ripped it with all his strength, waiting for the cry of pain from his brother.

"It's still going. I added a little more gas to make it go faster," Bobby offered, taking up residence next to Dean, seeing what he'd just done. "Did you…is he..?"

He only shook his head, hoping that the pain reflexes would bring Sam around. Dean tried again, stripping the outer layer on another portion of Sam's body, then another with the same results.

"Is he breathing?" Bobby queried, removing more of the youngest Winchester's shirt to continue the de-barking.

Dean grabbed a glass and carefully placed it next to Sam's nose hoping to see the familiar fog on the glass, but he was rewarded with nothing.

"This was supposed to work, Bobby! We killed Adonis, we killed the trunk. Sam's…spirit is in that vase. What are we missing?" Dean screamed at the older hunter, willing the answers to come. "He can't die. Not like this!"

Bobby sat back on his haunches and thought it through. "Maybe the trunk needs to be completely gone." He looked back to the vase and the light was still twinkling inside, although it seemed a touch softer. "I'll go help it along even further."

He got up looking at the broken man before him. "We'll figure it out, Dean. I promise. In fact, why don't you go to the medical kit and get the IV. We should start hydrating him again. He'll need the fluids we kept away from him."

Dean nodded in agreement, tired of waiting for something to happen. He ran to the closet and found the equipment, dragging it over to his brother. He found the surgical scissors and cut the sleeves of Sam's shirt, ripping off another section of bark to start an IV. The yellowed resin still permeated the air as the brown skin was exposed, making Dean gag at the now rancid smell. A cotton swab was placed in the area, pulling the grime and stickiness to the ball of fluff. Several more applications of alcohol finally removed enough residue to try and find a vein.

He rolled around the still-cooling flesh, anxious to find a vein. Feeling confident in his brother's large blood vessels, he stabbed where he believed one would be. Watching for a few moments, he realized he'd guessed right and the liquid flowed into his lifeless brother. Dean turned back to the vase, seeing the light still hanging in there.

From outside, a loud hammering could be heard as Dean assumed that splinters from the trunk continued to disintegrate in the flame. And the first signs of life came back to Sam.

It was a trick of the eye - that's what Dean thought, as he saw the twitch. So he watched again, and there it was: the dark fingernail seemed to move with the breeze. But Dean knew better.

"Bobby!!" Dean screamed as he pulled the glass again to Sam's face. It was faint, but it was there; a slight fogging of the glass.

The man came rumbling back into the house, axe in hand at Dean's request. "What is it?"

Tears streamed down his face. "He's back. He's coming back."

**-o-o-o-o-o**

Epilogue to follow. Thanks for stopping by and I hope you made it through. :D


	5. Chapter 5

Well, this is it! Thanks, once again, to all who have reviewed, alerted and favorited this story – I was completely overwhelmed.

I tweaked a lot, so any other mistakes are mine, but thanks to Gem and TraSan for their help!

This now sort of becomes a tag to _Red Sky_; I hope you like my leap of faith.

:D

Caroline

**-o-o-o-o**

**EPILOGUE**

It was several days later before Sam actually opened his eyes, his body slowly healing from the intense assault. This time, Sam's stillness didn't bother Dean.

Dean and Bobby had managed to peel all the bark from Sam's tortured skin, being extra cautious of his face. They'd stripped him, in every sense of the word, and attended to the nicks and cuts left behind. The stickiness of the now reddish-brown resin was still thick on Sam's skin, refusing to come off without a fight, but it paled in comparison to the bark removal.

The scars from the dagger Sam had taken in the shoulder and the open incision to 'birth' Adonis were both healing nicely. Slight puffiness still invaded the areas, but considering that his chest had resembled your friendly neighborhood oak tree a few short days earlier, they were elated with the progress. Bobby insisted on constant compresses in equal mixture of Vitamin E and Goldenseal to treat the battle scars.

The vase that contained Sam's soul still glowed as it perched next to its body, apparently waiting for the right moment to reconnect. Dean fidgeted next to him, pretending to watch TV by giving commentary on every show so Sam would know what was going on. In reality, it was an excuse to look at Sam, talk to Sam and hope that things were all heading in the right direction. Dean had made a particularly gauche comment about Pamela Anderson when he noticed the light was gone from the vase.

"Sammy?"

A wheezing gasp filled the room as Sam shot up, eyes wide, taking full, deep breaths as if for the first time in his life.

"Bobby? Sam's awake!"

The man hustled into the room, arching his brows at the boy before him. "'Bout damn time, kid. I've been putting up with _Baywatch_ for the last few days." A warm smile engulfed his rugged face and he stepped closer to the sofa.

Sam looked puzzled as he scanned the area, trying to remember what'd happened. "Whe.." he grabbed his tender throat and fell back into the couch with a thump. Panic overtook his demeanor as his gaze shot between Dean and Bobby.

"What do you remember?" Dean asked, inching closer to Sam, bringing some water to his lips and grabbing the back of his still cool neck for support. He greedily took it in as Dean pulled back. "Easy. You've been out for a few days. You'll get yourself sick if you keep that up."

"Thanks," Sam tried, still voiceless. He furrowed his brow as he looked for answers. "Don't remember," the mouthed words were formed but heard loud and clear by the caretakers.

"The trunk? You being a freaking tree? Any of this coming back to you?"

Sam closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Bits were coming back to him, but none of it made sense. He drew in a deep breath, turning his head to the side. "Tired…" And with that, he fell back asleep.

**-o-o-o-o**

It was another day before Sam really woke and was alert. Over the previous twenty-four hours, he'd tossed and turned, working out the details in his head. When he cracked his eyelids to find a concerned Dean hovering over him, he remembered the whole story.

"So, you burned the trunk and that's what brought me back? Was I in some kind of stasis or something?"

"We're not really sure, but I think the fact that your blood mixed with the opening of the lock saved you – both times. Normally, that's not supposed to happen," Bobby added, revealing the research and he and Dean had found in the days during his recovery. "The spell seemed to be set up to take over the victim, turn them to a tree and say goodnight."

"Good thing you're a klutz, is what he's trying to say," Dean interjected cheerfully, loving the chance to banter with his brother once again, especially when he couldn't really fight back.

"And what about Adonis?" Sam asked, ignoring the insult. "What happened to the…body?" Sam saw Dean shiver as he looked away.

"After he was…born, Dean was able to kill him with the tusk, just like we'd planned. The intermingled blood caused…unforeseen circumstances. We were afraid that we might lose you, but you came through with flyin' colors," Bobby explained, patting the youngest Winchester on the shoulder. "After the trunk finished burning, we salted and burned Adonis as well. He ain't coming back anytime soon."

"Damn straight! It's a good thing your Geek brain had a jump start on this, Sammy. I would definitely put that experience on the 'Things Never To Do Again' list," Dean said, now composed from the recent memories. "And while we're on that list, I gotta say, taking the bark off your skin – _really_ not fun. And you owe me big time for, well, taking care of, well… you know." Dean looked sheepishly at Bobby to fill in the blanks.

"Hey, he's _your_ brother! Nothin' you ain't seen before and _I_ wasn't gonna do it!" Bobby threw his hands in the air and walked away.

Sam's face broke into a smile, feeling the tightness of the resin still saturated in his features. It was good to see Dean as _Dean_ – filled with dirty jokes and one-liners. This had been trying and certainly must have brought up a million different versions of Cold Oak for Dean. Suddenly, the thoughts of the past few days brought tears to Sam's eyes.

"Hey, what is it?" Dean sat next to him, running a quick hand to his head checking for fever. "You feeling alright? What do you need?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad…"

Dean got up, angling towards the kitchen. "I know! How about some nice chicken broth, huh? That'll sooth your stomach."

Sam nodded his head in agreement. "Sounds great."

Bobby reentered the room with several volumes of their research. "This was really something out of this world. There was a lot of information and I still can't truly explain this. And I'm sorry about…"

"Don't be. Your friend obviously had some bad intel. It happens," Sam answered, looking to make sure that Dean was out of earshot. Instantly, his eyes welled with tears and his voice cracked as he continued. "Bobby…did I die? Is the deal broken because I died?"

Sam watched as Bobby's face fell, his eyes suddenly interested in the floor, sinking Sam's heart with them.

Bobby paused for a moment before he answered the question. "No, Sam. You hit it as close to accurate as possible. You were in stasis. Your soul was still here and didn't move on. The deal is still intact." He placed a calloused hand on Sam's head, squeezing gently, tracing the side of his still-too-tan skin. The palm landed on Sam's cheek, pulling their eyes to each other. Tears continued to sluice down Sam's face, blanketing the fingers in wetness. "I know, Sam. I wish…We'll find a way, I promise."

Heartbroken at the knowledge that the suffering was for naught, Sam gave in to the full emotions of the situation. "We have to…"

**-o-o-o-**

The sleek Volvo pulled in front of the posh hotel, its occupant waiting for the sign to exit. After a few moments, another car pulled beside it and the windows rolled down simultaneously.

"Did they open it?"

"Yes," the man answered, coolly.

"And?"

"Somehow they beat it. It's rubble in the old man's junk yard. Both Winchesters are alive and kicking."

The window rolled back up and she pulled from the parking lot, smacking the steering wheel with her hand. "Damn it! I thought that would do it!"

Bela Talbott cruised down the busy highway on her way to meet her next seller. After Gert's coy comment about Sam being her Adonis, the wheels started to turn in her head.

She'd heard the legend of the trunk when she was dealing overseas a long time ago and knew that Sam was the perfect fit – it just took and eighty-year-old cougar to finally put the pieces together for her.

After some research, she'd learned the location of the mythical coffer, finding the storage area and leaking its whereabouts to Bobby Singer. Her paid accomplice called the older hunter with the ruse of an ancient trinket to get Dean out of his deal. By resurrecting Adonis through the Winchesters, Bela had hoped to gain the ancient god's favor, thinking he'd be able to get her out of her deal.

And now it was all for nothing. She was another step closer to Hell.

Anger filled her as she met another road block. Her time was running short and this was her best option to break her deal without having to beg to Lillith.

Bela gripped the wheel with more force, wondering how badly Lillith wanted Sam. Maybe that was the key. Sam's head on a platter - and she knew just the person to take care of it.

She pulled to the side of the road ripping her phone from the side pocket of her Kate Spade bag and stumbled through her contacts, stopping on "W."

A few rings later, the phone was answered abruptly.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Is that any way to treat an old friend?"

"What do you want?"

She paused, realizing this was low, but finding no other choice if she wanted to live.

"I know where the Winchesters are."

Silence.

"Gordon? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"So, are you interested?"

She heard the smirk on the other end of the line.

"You know I am. What'll it cost me?"

Bela smiled, hoping this would finally be the end.

"Just let me know when Sam Winchester is dead and where I can pick him up."

And the phone went dead.

THE END

**-o-o-o-o-o**

Thanks again for reading. If you're so inclined, feel free to leave me a note!


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